Fifty Seventh: Part Two
by Sampug394
Summary: With training wrapping up and the 57th Hunger Games drawing ever closer, the tributes find themselves in the limelight in an effort to secure their survival, unsure if their actions truly will make a difference in the fight of life versus death... Reuploaded sequel to part one. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

_Rain._

Instead of sunshine flowing into the window that morning, the sky was woven with a light grey blanket of clouds, and a layer of fog hid most of the city from view. Unfurling from the middle of the bed, Aelita watched with widening eyes as streaks of water ran down the glass. She rose to her feet, stepping over to the window and touching the cool glass with her fingertips.

_As much as I miss an open blue sky... I love rain a whole lot more._

Her forehead, and the tip of her nose were greeted by the cold surface, and drops of rain wandered aimlessly down the outside.

_If only there was a way..._

"...Or a balcony."

She pushed herself away, sauntered across the carpet, and peeked out of the entryway to her room.

_Not a soul in sight._

Her bare feet made no noise as she wound through the apartment, finding and opening a door she had never bothered to notice before. The breath of a cold, gentle wind met her senses as soon as she swung it open, and a rosy smile gathered on her face as she stepped out onto the cold concrete.

The sterile warmth of the apartment was slowly replaced by the swirling breeze, tickling her skin as it drew the heat right out. She stepped up to the wall lining the balcony's edge, and was graced by the lightly falling rain. Looking up into the sky, the layer of grey seemed to stretch on forever with the sun nowhere in sight. The wind cheekily flicked locks of hair left and right, and water splashed upon her face and hair, slowly, wonderfully dampening both.

_Even in a place like this, nature still works its magic..._

Her eyes lowered from the sky, but all that was visible below were glimpses and silhouettes of other towering buildings, wreathed by the ghostly fog.

_Mysterious._

_I love this..._

* * *

After an unknown passage of time, footsteps forced Aelita out of a slumber that the rain lulled her into. A thick, soft towel was then draped across her shoulders, and she knew exactly who was there.

"You're up early."

She looked at the source of the voice, as he leaned against the railing as well.

"I didn't know it even rained here."

Markell eyed her, a smile appearing as she brushed aside a few wet locks of hair.

"Last year, it rained the entire week of training, and several days into the games."

Her eyes wandered, imagining two weeks of straight rain. At least she'd enjoy it, and afterward, the sky would be a dreamy blue and be free of clouds.

A winning combination. If only I was somewhere else in time...

She shivered, realizing she was soaked, and chilled to the bone. The wind and rain were no longer being playful, and Mark nodded towards the door behind as she backed from the railing.

"Take a shower and warm up, girl. Breakfast will be ready in a hour or so. We'll talk then."

* * *

While the shower nature provided was cold and calming, the strange shower in her room, when the right combination of buttons were pressed, was warm, soothing, and in some cases, fragrant.

She sat still on the floor, eyes shut, as lukewarm water cascaded down, drenching her in a way that only truly pouring rain could match. Slipping away into deep thought, the idea of winning arose, ignored so easily before amongst the thoughts of death.

_Winning._

The voice of Caeser Flickerman filled her ears.

_'Aelita Schaeffer... This year's victor of the fifty-seventh annual Hunger Games!'_

And then, a recap of the twenty three others that died. Among them, the blonde boy from eight, risking everything to protect her, ultimately costing his own life.

The thought of winning dropped right back out of her mind. And now, it made sense why she didn't like to think about it.

_Even if Odd tries to keep her alive, its doubtful I'll win anyway._

_Maybe he could win. Go home to his mom and dad and sisters, bathed in riches, and all of them could live happily ever after. Except Odd. Because the girl he wanted to protect, would be dead._

_I would be dead._

_Do I want to be dead?_

The old thought of having nothing to go home to resurfaced, as did the guilt from learning Odd left his whole family behind.

_Where would they be if he died?_

Since he seemed to expect death, the thought of his family starving became a very real possibility. She had no clue what it was like to have sisters, but the thought of four little blonde girls perishing because she ended up surviving, left a clenching knot in her throat.

It seemed unfair at every angle if she, the orphaned, formerly wealthy girl, ended up being laden with money and fame again.

_I need help them. Somehow._

_Of course, that's assuming I can even survive..._

Her eyes slowly peeked open, and she watched the girl in the shower mirror, sitting naked on the floor under the downpour of warm water, stare back.

Six days after the reaping, she was beautiful, she was dangerous, and she was still innocent.

And then, she found out she was vulnerable. Dangerously vulnerable, all because of the blonde boy from District 8...

* * *

Aelita strolled into the dining room, walking right past the table with a sudden sense of impunity as the tribute boy's glare practically ricocheted off of her with no effect.

Markell, and her team of stylists watched quietly as she loaded up a plate with the usual array of breakfast, and then sat down without a single word spoken and began to eat. The boy, Lucent, also resumed eating, and a tense silence gripped the room. There was no questioning the growing animosity between tributes. Only a question of how it would finally reach its breaking point.

A fist suddenly slammed into the table, rattling every dish and the nerves of most of the people sitting there, and Mark watched with an approving nod as all eyes turned to him.

His hands came together, fingers intersecting, and he cleared his throat.

"Now that I have your attention... Tomorrow's the last day of training. Start thinking about what you want to show the gamemakers, and we'll talk one-on-one tonight."

An unwavering, stern look materialized, fixated on the two tributes.

"...In the meantime, make sure you use these last two days wisely."

Aelita's digestion nearly stopped.

_If anything, that was a warning._

* * *

Slipping the training shirt over herself, she tugged the sleeves and preened it over her stomach. Seeing the girl in the mirror, she crossed her arms, quirked an eyebrow, and watched as she glared right back at her.

_'Just imagine how people would react when the lovely young woman from 3 suddenly turns into a deadly nightmare...'_

_He was right. Just imagine the sponsors and fans..._

_Maybe his earlier statement wasn't a warning. Sounds like advice now._

_Advice, even though I'm already causing a ruckus... I've seen the way the other tributes look at me. They hate my guts._

The girl staring back in the mirror became pensive.

_If he was implying I haven't raised enough hell, maybe today and tomorrow are the perfect times to do so._

_I'm dead anyway, right? Its not like I should give a shit what people think...  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Day six.**

Odd stepped into the training center, and paused, mentally checking off stations he'd already spent plenty of time at. Suddenly, he was shoved aside, but instead of Aquila, the girl from District 2, he saw the girl from his own district, Sandra, walking away.

He stared at her backside, his eyebrows furrowed in dark repugnance.

_Well fuck you too._

He exhaled and continued forward.

_Looks like that bridge is burned... Figured._

Stepping up to the station for making hammocks, which was curiously empty, Odd offered a smile to the assistant, watching as he sprang into action.

"Oh good. I'm glad somebody's interested. It's been two entire days since anyone's been to my station."

"Today's your lucky day." Odd breathed.

* * *

Half an hour later, Odd rolled into his creation, being a web of ropes, and it stayed together under the weight of his body. He gave the assistant a thumbs up, and then relaxed, watching the activity of the tributes in the center from his elevated vantage point.

_Somebody's crawling around up in the rope net, two people being beaten by batons on the gauntlet..._

He sat up, watching as a short, tan skinned boy shot arrow after arrow out of a bow, making every single shot hit its mark somewhere on the target until he ran out of arrows to fire.

_Damn. Only slightly worrying..._

The metallic clang of swords clashing caught his attention, and he looked over, surprised to find Aelita was facing off against an assistant, both of which were wielding live swords. Blades sliced through the air and slammed together as both deftly attacked and defended, countering moves made by the opponent with increasing ferocity, and increasing risk.

His heart started pounding as the assistant started gaining the upper hand, steadily pushing her back on the platform.

Then, in seconds, it happened.

A block just a hair too low was raised, and the assistant's sword sailed over her knuckles on the hilt and sliced a small gash along her upper arm, cutting the left sleeve of her outfit open. She visibly gasped, looked at her arm as blood trickled down to her elbow, and in sudden fury, swung her sword up, forcibly locked the assistant's blade against hers, and swung both around in a circular arc, only for it to suddenly fling up into the air out of his grasp.

Many pairs of eyes watched as a sword twirled up into the air, only to fall back to the gymnasium floor in a series of loud clangs.

Breathing heavily, she lowered her guard and dropped the sword aside, and inspected the cut on her arm as drops of blood fell to the floor and trickled down to her wrist.

_Ouch._

* * *

**T. C. Cafeteria.**

"Hey, you."

Aelita's attention snapped to the blonde as he suddenly sat down next to her with a tray piled high with lunch. Instead of a verbal greeting, she leaned over and squeezed him in a hug, and a release of breath.

"That, uhh, incident with the swords earlier was impressive. Just so you know."

Her mouth moved.

"I'm just glad nobody got sliced open by a falling blade."

He grinned, and held onto her forearm, getting a good look at the gauze bandage that was now around her bicep.

"Be glad that the sword only licked your arm. Could've been worse."

She resumed eating as he began to, and after a few mouthfuls, she eyed him.

"What were you doing in the meantime?"

He tried not to smile.

"Sitting in a hammock I made, watching everybody else."

"Why, Odd, am I not surprised..."

"Hey, I did find out one thing we need to be wary of."

"Oh really."

"See that kid over there... Tan skin, bowl in his hands?"

"...Yes."

"He's scary good with a bow. Watched him put ten arrows downrange, and none of them missed."

Her jaw stopped chewing, watching as he frowned at the pack of career tributes sitting several tables away.

"He doesn't look very intimidating."

"Exactly. He isn't, until he has a bow in his hands."

Aelita turned and faced the blonde.

"Then what should we do about him?"

"If he doesn't get killed right away, avoid him."

"...And if he pursues us?"

Odd took in a firm breath.

"Then we kill him."


	3. Chapter 3

Even with a cut arm, Aelita hardly slowed down. Spears were thrown with marginal success, knives flew downrange, and even a strange three pronged tool they called a trident, saw use in her hands.

And then, she returned to her favorite weapon of them all.

Hatches and Axes, of varying size but perfect balance, sailed downrange and wedged happily into various places on the target dummies.

The male tribute from District 7, unsettled by her ability with a tool from his district, took her place just as she left the station. He threw them faster, but was obviously trying hard to beat her accuracy.

She didn't spend long watching him, because a certain blonde caught her eye as he swung around up in the netting of the ropes course. She blinked when he hooked his legs and feet into the net, and then hung freely upside down.

_Yes, Odd. You're crazy._

As if he heard her thought, he stuck his tongue out at her, before falling upright again, and moving further along the ropes until he daintily set his feet onto the platform at the far end.

She crossed her arms as he sauntered down the steps, and a smile grew bigger on his face as he approached her.

"Alright, mister acrobat. What's your secret behind that?"

"My urban, industrial home."

A nod transformed into a tilt of her head, and the quirk of her eyebrow.

"I live... Lived, in an an industrial area, but getting to work every day doesn't require doing that."

"It doesn't require it where I'm from. That doesn't mean I don't find different ways to get around..."

_Touche._

"Well... In any case, I-."

Both of them turned their heads, to the screech of the whistle.

_Day six, over._

She turned back to the blonde, struck by worry.

"I... Wasn't expecting that."

They collided together in a hug, and breathed a combined sigh.

"One day to go." He spoke softly.

She squeezed him tightly with her right arm, and he moved his head, and pressed his lips against her neck for a moment.

_Unexpected..._

They backed apart, and she gripped his hand with both of hers, before letting go.

"Be careful." She whispered.

He nodded, turned, and walked away, leaving her heart in an inferno as he slipped away again...

* * *

**T.C.A. Floor three.**

Aelita looked up as her mentor strolled into her room and removed his sunglasses. After sitting, he finally let a smile show through his lips as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"Today was a huge improvement on your part."

A grin blossomed on her face, and she moved herself forward, draping her legs over the side of the bed as she sat next to him. He leaned forward and looked at her arm, and nodded.

"That will be healed by tomorrow, so don't worry about going into the arena injured."

_However, going into the arena, and being injured... Worth worrying about._

"So, the gamemakers..." Aelita drawled.

"Cyprianos is the big man, and then there's the rest... As I've heard, they're already pretty wary of your capabilities."

Her eyes wandered, eventually sinking to the floor.

"But, that doesn't mean you still can't show off. You like throwing axes right?"

She looked up at him, and he grinned.

"Just kidding. I know you do, and you do it well, my friend."

Her eyes fell again, in a slight blush.

"You clearly like swords and knives too... But after today's mishap, steer clear of swordplay."

"Are you afraid I'm going to throw one up into the gamemaker's balcony?"

He chuckled at the thought.

"Not quite... But if you lose control of another sword, they might not take you seriously."

"Then I'll just throw axes. They'll take me seriously after what they've seen lately."

His eyes narrowed.

"Part of what they've seen lately is your rule bending and little emotional moments with your friend."

Her mouth opened.

"Don't get conceited, Aelita. All you have to do is get a few good hits in on some targets. Throw your axes, or knives. Both if you have the time."

She nodded cautiously, and he set his arm across her shoulders.

"Believe it or not, I still have faith in you... Even after all the trouble you've caused."

They traded humored expressions, and he patted her shoulder before standing up.

"Now, I'm going to talk to Lucent here, and then we'll all have supper... I expect a decent score tomorrow afternoon."

Met with another nod from her, he strolled out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the hallway as she sat silently. Heart pounding.

_One more day._

* * *

**T.C.A. Floor eight.**

Odd sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed, watching the television window and cycling through an endless amount of programming the Capitol was airing.

_Maybe its a good thing people don't watch much TV back home... Besides the Games, at least. You have to or else._

The orange hair of Caesar Flickerman appeared momentarily, and he quickly cycled back, happening upon yet another interview of the head gamemaker, only to then drop the remote, seeing both his and Aelita's portraits on the screens in the background.

"...I suppose we'll wait and see how long the team of troublemakers really can protect one another."

Caesar then stood to his feet amongst the sudden fanfare, and waved at the crowd.

"That's all for tonight, but don't forget folks - In just under 48 hours, we're bringing in and interviewing all twenty four of this year's tributes! Your favorites, right here on stage!"

Odd quickly shut off the television, and the evening sky reappeared through the window.

_Oh. That's great._

_Can only imagine the 99% of the interview I didn't see... Troublemaker team? What kind of crap is that?_

He tossed the remote aside.

_Stupid._

* * *

Having discovered the open balcony, Aelita found herself drawn to the refreshing, free air outside after being stuck in the underground training gymnasium all day.

The rain was long gone, but scattered clouds still lingered, drifting away along the mysterious winds that blew from the west. Snow-capped mountains surrounding the city rose prominently in the distance, wreathing and protecting the Capitol's existence in a ring of trees, dirt and stone.

The last bastion of bright color in the clouds finally faded, and the sky turned into a dark blue as the sun's reign drew to a close. Unlike in the morning, Aelita wore a light coat over the warm, loose fitting dark green robe, and whispers of wind brushed her legs, rippling along her clothing as she leaned forward against the wall.

The evening was beautiful, but it was a shame that twenty four hours later, it would be the last time she could watch the real sun set on the horizon beyond.

The last time too, that she could stand still, and not fear that her life was in danger.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day seven.**

Odd awoke with a start - And then stared at the ceiling, realizing that the last moments of peaceful sleep had just slipped away.

Knowing there was no point of laying there anymore, he pushed aside the tangle of sheets and the fur comforter, and squinted as the lights slowly turned on in the room as soon as his feet touched the floor.

Ambling over into the bathroom, he paused, and touched his hand to his face, staring closely at his reflection in the crystal mirror.

_This is the face, that Panem would not soon forget._

_Not as a victor, but the reason behind one._

* * *

Two short hours later, brimming with uncertainty, Odd couldn't decide what he wanted to do in the training gymnasium. Having been quite literally to every station, some several times over, there was nothing available he hadn't tried during the week.

Turning his head, his eyes found light red hair bobbing in the distance, and then her eyes found him. He then nodded his head towards one station that he wouldn't mind visiting again.

_Camouflage._

Meeting at the rendezvous spot moments later, they latched together in a hug, and then sat down together.

"Got a plan for later?"

"You bet I do." She spoke, eying the assistant as he handed her a clean paintbrush.

"Good... You're better off than me already."

She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Tell me you at least have an idea."

"I do. Just not sure its exactly what I want to do."

"It's probably better than nothing."

"I suppose... I'm not really expecting a stellar score anyway."

Aelita paused.

"I think my mentor wants me to get a good one."

A smile lifted from the blonde's mouth.

"I'd like to see that too."

She frowned.

"Right... With my luck, I'll end up with a five or something."

His smile remained as his eyebrow rose, and he dipped his brush into a jar of green paint, moved her arm onto the table, and began to paint something onto the back of her hand.

After a few minutes, a green symbol she faintly recognized appeared, in the form of a small plant with four round leaves.

Her eyes rose from it, to Odd's as he set the brush aside.

"...What is this?"

His answer was simple.

"A clover."

Her expression lightened as he lifted her wrist.

"You mentioned luck, and it doesn't sound like you have very much... So I gave you some more."

A blush spread like wildfire across her cheeks, and the fire raced down into her chest. She slid her hand down and squeezed it around his, but he escaped her grip, and instead, pushed his fingers between hers.

"...You deserve it, after all."

She squeezed his hand, searching his eyes for a deeper clue. _Deserve luck? Winning?_

Her throat locked shut at the next thought.

_...Him?_

He caressed her hand with his thumb, but her head sank. A lone tear slid carefully down her face, pausing at her chin, and she shut her eyes, but it had the opposite effect, forcing several more down along her cheeks.

Having never seen her cry before, Odd sighed heavily, and scooped her into a firm, apologetic embrace, holding her fingers tightly as he tried to conceal her from any nearby eyes, knowing that no good would come of seeing her this way.

The assistant at the station, normally supposed to ignore the conversations of tributes, looked on sadly.

He witnessed the entire week of training and quietly watched their feelings unfold, growing fond of the only two regular visitors to his station, even if they didn't paint camouflage every time.

And now, only one day later, they faced a horrible, eventual demise.

Even as a Capitol employee, he felt pity for them.

* * *

Aelita whimpered as she and Odd embraced as tightly as possible. Hearts pounded, wracked with painful worry, since the last whistle of training was blown earlier than expected.

"Aelita, you're going to be fine. I swear."

"What about you?"

"You don't need to worry about me. Besides..."

He lifted her hand and tapped the back of her palm, and she tightened her grip around his fingers again as he leaned forward, and touched his forehead up against hers.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll try to come as early as I can to the interviews."

"Okay." She choked, slowly relinquishing her hold on his hands.

"You've got this. I know you do. You've already proven it."

A breath escaped her lungs as he pressed a farewell kiss against her cheek, and then stepped back, disappearing into the hallway out of sight.

* * *

One rich lunch later, Aelita and Lucent were led along by Mark, back down into the training center. Just before being relinquished to join the other district tributes sitting on benches, he eyed them both.

"Remember what I told you."

Two nods, and his nod towards Aelita later, he turned on his heel, and the two tributes of District 3 cautiously walked into the hallway and sat.

Odd was nowhere in sight as the girl from District 1, Shimmer, was called forth into the gymnasium.

And then, the boy, Glint.

_Aquila._

_Tatius._

_Aelita._

She swallowed, rose to her feet, and began to walk forward, watching with a breath as the gate rose in front of her. Her footsteps echoed as she looked over towards the gamemaker's balcony, approaching the target range on the far end.

Amid some light discussion, all eyes were trained on her as her feet drew to a halt in front of an array of knives and axes sitting upon a rack.

Composing herself, she turned towards the balcony.

"Aelita Schaeffer... District 3."

The following silence forced her to take a deep breath, and she ran her finger along the handles of several knifes, before plucking one, and twisting it around to check the balance.

_Exhale._

She flung it forward, and it sailed downrange, ending up buried in the thigh of a dummy.

Blinking, she picked up another, and flung it slightly higher, watching as it stuck just off center of the dummy's chest.

_Better._

She picked up one more, and with a shaky breath, threw it.

A metal clatter filled her ears, and her mouth opened.

_Missed._

_Time to pull out all the stops._

She picked up one of the hatchets, and after eying the polished blackened blade, moved it around in her hand.

Over her shoulder, and then a grunt, as it sailed through the air.

***Thunk***

_Left shoulder._

She picked up another, feeling more confident as she squinted at the target.

A breath seeped out of her lungs, and then the hatchet flew, chopping the left arm off.

She shook her head, and picked up the last, third hatchet, looking down as she tried to calm herself.

Her eyes fell open a circular light on the floor, and her head tilted in recognition.

_Electricity...?_

_Why not. My specialty, after all._

She knelt down, and tapped the plate of glass with the hatchet, greeted by two feeble clunks.

_Oh, good._

She swung the hatchet down and broke the glass, cleared a few shards off the edges, and reached in, pulling up the housing of the now-destroyed light that sat with two wires, she swiftly chopped the light housing off, and eyed both cables.

With an uncertain breath, she held the hatchet's handle between her knees, and touched the wires to the steel blade. Jumping from the loud snap of a momentary arc, her heartbeat increased as an unknown amount of high voltage was pumped into the hatchet.

Unknown, until the handle began to smolder, and after a minute or so, the her hands grew quite warm from the radiant heat of the blade. She pulled on the wires, only to discover she had to jerk them off, as they had melted against the weapon.

Her fingers very carefully wrapped around the grip, and she picked the smoldering hatchet off the floor, moving it from hand to hand as she discovered it was quite hot.

Focusing with incredible intent, she took a small step back, and then, as soon as it landed back into her right hand, stepped forward, and flung it away in a fierce grunt.

Her eyes widened as it collided with the dummy right in the middle of its face and knocked the stand over, causing a great deal of noise as some of the other previously imbedded weapons were knocked out of their places and clattered onto the floor.

Smoke, a stench of burning foam material, and a sizzle, all resulted from the impact.

Aelita turned to the gamemakers, and after a tense, silent moment between all of them, a voice rose.

"You can go now, Miss Schaeffer."

* * *

Slice.

Slice.

**SLICE.**

Limbs and heads were chopped off target dummies as Odd deftly swung one of the swords around. A curious scent of something burnt tickled his nose, and he paused, his eyes falling upon a suspended punching bag nearby.

An idea flashed through his mind, and even though he was uncertain if it would be allowed, it was an idea regardless. He dropped the sword aside, plucked a sizable knife off a table, jogged over to the bag, and after a few breaths and practice punches like before, he gripped the knife in his fist, and began to beat the punching bag repeatedly.

_Left-right, right-left_. Punch after punch. It bounced around, and then in a sudden move, he stabbed the bag with the knife, pulled the blade back out, took a step back, and delivered a powerful kick, sending it swinging forward.

He stepped aside as it swung back, and then noticed the rope that was holding it to the frame. A quick cut, and the bag dropped to the floor in defeat, only to be picked up, and thrown a good distance away in a grunt of exertion.

The blonde caught his breath, and then looked up at the gamemaker's balcony.

Cyprianos himself was slowly nodding, and the rest were quietly speaking back and forth amongst each other.

"Della Robbia, you can go."

* * *

Odd's heart was racing as he walked down an empty hallway, and met his awaiting mentor at the elevator.

For not having much of a plan beforehand, he must have done something right. Or the head gamemaker was envisioning a creative way to end him. Either way, the blonde had made an impression, and in a few hours he was going to find out how good it was.

He stepped inside the elevator alone, and as soon as the doors shut, the car accelerated upwards, only to slow to a stop much sooner than he remembered. The doors opened, and a brunette man with sunglasses stepped inside, the doors shutting behind him a few seconds later.

The car moved upwards, but the man took off his sunglasses, and eyed the young blonde.

"Aren't you... Aelita's friend?"

Odd blinked.

"I am."

The man nodded.

"I've heard a lot about you... I'm her mentor."

Odd's eyebrows almost rose off his head.

"I've heard about you too."

A smile graced his unshaven face.

"I'm sure you have."

A musical tone played, and the doors opened to the eighth floor.

"...Here's my stop."

Odd stepped out, but Markell moved his hand forward, keeping the doors from closing.

"Hey, good luck in the arena tomorrow."

Odd nodded in slight disbelief.

"Thanks."

His hand withdrew, and the elevator doors closed, but Odd stood, blinking.

_So that's the guy she talks about..._


	5. Chapter 5

Aelita stood on the balcony, watching and listening in silence in the late afternoon as people began to crowd the square, just down the street from the training center and apartments. A busy ambiance of commotion and excitement wound around the architecture of the city as celebrations and rallies kicked into gear, with thousands of citizens cheerfully anticipating the Games, which were now only one day away from beginning.

A fact that was well known across the rest of Panem as well.

Her heart raced as she thought about District 3, and all the people back home that were tuning in tonight. Now that the week of training is over with, the Districts are all probably very excited to see their tributes again.

_Maybe._

A sigh turned into a shiver as she thought about the monumental responsibility she was about to face. After all, the next two nights were going to be a big deal, with all of the tribute's scores announced, and then the interviews. No margin of error was available, especially if she hoped to have any chance with sponsors.

Footsteps, and then the tinkle of a glass being set upon the concrete wall met her ears. Her eyes slowly wandered up to the cheekbone of Markell, and he then set the glass into her hand.

She looked down at the stubby crystal thing, filled with the peculiar sweet blue drink, and her fingers gripped it as she took a sip.

"...Too bad this isn't liquor." She mumbled, setting it back down onto the smooth concrete surface.

A quiet laugh accompanied his smile.

"If you didn't have so much ahead of you, I'd get you some."

Her eyebrow rose at the thought.

"In any case, scores are being broadcasted in a little bit... We'll finally see just how much you impressed the gamemakers."

The glass met her lips again, and she looked up at the sun as a cluster of clouds tiptoed along in front of it.

_Right. Hopefully my antics aren't about to speed up my demise..._

* * *

_Deep breath._

Aelita, Lucent, Markell, and the two head stylists sat together, crowded onto one lengthy curved couch as all eyes were focused on the television.

The legendary young face of Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, orange hair and all, and a roar of recognition swept across the square outside, audible through the open doorway nearby. Displaying a white smile as he greeted his audience of hundreds of thousands, he preened a stack of papers as he spoke a quick introduction to the scoring, and then after a preparative breath, began to read them aloud.

_To all of Panem._

"Starting with District 1... Shimmer, with a score of eight. Glint, with a score of ten."

"From District 2... Aquila, with a score of ten, and Tatius, a score of nine."

Her palms grew sweaty. Careers had already racked up high numbers.

"District 3..."

A flicker of recognition met Caesar's face amongst the pause.

"Lucent, with a score of seven."

All four pairs of eyes met the boy as he blinked, and Markell heartily shook his shoulder.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

"...And Aelita, with a score of ten."

Her attention instantly snapped back to the television, and her mouth opened as she stared at the number on the screen in disbelief.

_...Ten?_

The expressions of those around her matched her thought, but Markell threw up his hands as he looked at the people sitting around him.

"A Ten!"

A bubble of excitement burst over the room as Aelita was tugged into a one-armed hug by him, and she exhaled amongst the sudden chatter.

_Was breaking a light and throwing a heated axe that impressive? Or did I just get slapped with a high number on purpose..._

The television was shut off, and drinks were poured in the background as her team did a toast to her and Lucent's scoring successes.

The number swirled inside her head as she stood to her feet, giddy with pride.

_Oh, if only I could see a lot of people's expressions right now... I bet some are furious._

_Has District 3 ever gotten a 10 before?_

Her heart then sped up again.

"Odd."

With the remote nowhere in sight, she stormed past the table, down the hallway and into her room, sauntering onto her bed and picking up the remote off the nightstand before sitting and crossing her legs as she turned it on. Greeted with a big number nine on the window screen, from the girl from District 7, she sighed with relief.

_Just in time._

"District 8. Odd, with a score of..."

Caesar's eyebrow raise greeted Aelita's wide eyes.

"...Ten."

* * *

Odd stared at the television screen, as his team stared at him.

"...And Sandra, with a score of eight."

The prep team, and the mentor of the two blondes, then couldn't figure out who to stare at.

"Eight, and ten. I'm impressed."

Odd and Sandra both traded apprehensive looks, despite earlier animosity during the week.

Something was at work for the scores to be so competitive. Unless this year's tributes were all really that amazing, there was no other explanation behind four tens, and several eights and nines.

_Ten... Aelita and I aren't exactly careers... Now we're just targets._

_Pretty proud of Aelita though. Whatever she did in front of the gamemakers must've been amazing if it earned her a ten..._

* * *

The air at the table was loaded with suspicion that evening.

It was well known that Odd wasted most of the week away, but somehow he still racked up one of the highest numbers on the scoreboard.

His mentor sat quietly, but refused say anything. The score was still beyond his comprehension, and nothing about the blonde boy seemed to add up.

Sandra, sporting an eight, was still barely sub-par to him, and just like her mentor, the boy was quietly frustrating her.

Odd, simply ate in silence, enjoying the delicacies of the Capitol food, knowing quite well that a lot of people were angry. Jealous too. Only a matter of time remained before everybody would be out for his blood.

_After all, nobody likes the person who bends so many rules during training, and somehow gets away with it. People don't stray from the norm in the Games. People don't try things... Even when their lives are so close to ending._

_Everybody knows deviating from the rules is defiance. And people in Panem who are defiant, wind up dead._

His mouth turned momentarily sour after a swallow.

_Dead. It was only a matter of time. Him and twenty two others, would all be dead very soon. He only hoped Aelita wouldn't be one of them._


	6. Chapter 6

Aelita lay in bed in a grip of silence. As it turned out, there was one more day before the Games began. One more day, and one more night, before she faced her destiny. The interviews weren't until the afternoon, and the rest of the day beforehand was devoted to a different sort of training - Preparing for the limelight.

Her heart twisted.

_Years ago, there was a time and a place where I could be dressed up... But that's long gone._

_Here in the Capitol, being one of the yearly celebrities is just a cruel, unfortunate ruse. You're pampered, and then you're dead. Not much else to it._

Her eyes followed the edge of a shadow on the ceiling for a moment.

_Even if you make it out alive, you're still scarred for the rest of your life. Scarred in ways that can't be superficially healed._

Her eyes looked down at her arm, but there was no trace of a sword having nipped her skin.

_One less thing to worry about..._

Her eyes drew her head back up to the ceiling.

_Five stories above, a blonde boy is probably having just as much trouble sleeping as me. Maybe he's thinking about me._

Her heart stirred. _Of course he's thinking about me. When isn't he?_

She blushed at herself, but towards the end of the week, his actions sure supported the idea.

_Especially earlier today, right at the end of training, when he kissed my cheek. And held my hands... Or, I held his hands._

_I've held his hands a lot lately. And we've shared a lot of hugs. Lots of comforting little moments with what was once a complete stranger._

Her eyebrows furrowed, but then relaxed.

_Why am I so close to a boy I hardly know? Because I'm crazy? Yes. But having company like his in such a bad setting, is comforting. Its strange. Its human. Its... Knowing there's some person out there that doesn't want to kill you. Knowing there's some person that's..._

_...That's now rooted in your heart. And so close to you. And so close to being torn away just as you begin to make sense of your emotions._

A sad breath seeped out of her lungs.

_Only a matter of time remains, until the adorable blonde boy from District 8, full of talent, wit and undying faith, would be gone forever. A beautiful person, just the sort that the world needs, dead. Dead because the one girl the world doesn't need, caught his eye, his ambition, and his heart._

Her insides burned with guilt, and sadness quietly spilled out of her eyes, drifting down the sides of her face.

All she could do now, was wait for the sun to rise...

* * *

...And then, wait for the sun to set.

The day slipped away in a teasingly fast pace as tributes were put through their paces on how to act and speak in public for their interviews.

Even though each one is only a few minutes long, they are critical for sponsorship and public appeal, and great care is taken by all stylists to show off each tribute's attractiveness - Something Aelita found she genuinely enjoyed, after years of rag-tag work clothing back home.

Having almost no familiarity with her stylists throughout the week though, once it was discovered she was dying to wear anything bold and colorful, her prep team was all over her in a whirl of chatter and excitement, and she quickly grew fond of them as ideas and plans were proposed, and then, the transformation began.

Her skin was scrubbed and polished clean, and her hair was brushed endlessly and then trimmed very carefully, marveled all the while for its sheen and unique color by the three young stylists. Fingernails were delicately refined and coated with a subtle gloss, eyelashes were increased and darkened, but all further makeup was waiting until she tried on the dress.

Her curiosity piqued, it didn't take long for it to be presented to her as she sat back in a chair in her bathroom.

Her eyebrows raised as it unfurled in one of the stylist's hands.

"It's... Very green."

"A teal-green of sorts. We tried to get a color that matches your eyes."

She stood to her feet with a smile.

"Then let's see how well you did."

* * *

A few minutes later, she eyed herself, preening parts of the dress as two of the stylists squealed with joy.

_How well did they do?_

_Very well. Amazingly well._

Beyond the almost identical color, the dress itself surpassed everything her imagination envisioned.

Held up by a single strap over the edge of her right shoulder, it tucked just below her collarbone in a cautious curve around her side, rising up again under the other shoulder. Below her chest, it drew in snug around her waist, before cascading down freely and ending just below her ankles. Two stripes of color - Or, rather, two stripes of actual gold and copper woven in, wound down from the shoulder in a swooping, circuitous route, following separate paths around her waist, and then dropping down in a curve and ending near her right foot.

Moving slightly, very small vertical and horizontal lines, almost invisible without certain lighting, glinted in secrecy in a pattern across every part of the dress, reminiscent of...

"...Circuitry."

Her eyes met the third stylist, who had his hand touching his chin in approval.

"We hoped you would notice that detail."

A momentary blush stained her cheeks. _Not that circuitry is a big deal or anything, even if everything electronic in Panem required it... At least the stylists are paying attention to where I came from._

A touch of lipstick, a dash of powder on her cheeks, a wide necklace made of solid gold, and then, eyeliner. A good deal of eyeliner. More than she thought necessary, until she was brought to her feet, and walked up in front of the crystal mirror.

The person that stared back, was no longer a 17 year old girl from District 3. She was now a beautiful, mysterious, divine being. _Someone that even the Capitol was unworthy of. Someone who had just descended from the heavens above, to grace the people of Panem with her powerful presence._

Her hand rose and gently pushed through a lock of her hair, and she smiled as it fell back against her face.

_Yes, Panem. You will never forget me after tonight._

Both the sharp, dark accents of the eyeliner, and the brilliant color of the dress made her eyes impossible to miss, even when they were hiding amongst her red hair.

She grinned as her shoulders were shaken amongst the excited speech of her stylists.

Her confidence, previously cut down, was renewed and bright, and her heart beat in excitement. Interviews were only an hour or so away, and now she was ready to take them on with earnest.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

Odd's heart beat hard as he, Sandra, and their entourage walked briskly into the foyer of a massive theater, only half an hour away before the interviews began. Through a door, and down a flight of stairs, a brightly lit waiting room appeared at the end of a hallway, and after momentary advising, the two blondes were released into the room.

As soon as they stepped inside, they separated and a fresh round of scrutinizing began as tributes reevaluated each other, now that everybody was dressed up and gorgeous.

Low discussions resumed as Odd slowly walked along, moving over to an empty wall, and leaning against it. He straightened his sleeves, rediscovering the dark, royally purple tuxedo shirt and sharp black pants he was wearing. His hair, normally free and loose, had the strange sensation of being styled with some sort of gel.

His eyes flicked around the room. _Suits, dresses... Deadly and pretty, bold and handsome, and then, the sad and adorable twelve-to-fourteen year olds._

A sigh escaped his lungs. _Tonight was going to be a stark contrast compared to the coming days._

He looked over as somebody stepped around the corner, but blinked as Aelita stopped in her tracks.

"...Odd?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and her mouth opened as both of them took in each other.

"Hey."

She carefully stepped forward, but then eased into a hug he readily provided.

"Been a little while, huh?"

Her eyes closed in a grimace.

"Yeah."

They drew apart, and leaned back against the wall next to each other, letting a moment of silence linger on.

"...Honestly Aelita, I didn't think you could get any more beautiful."

A blush met her cheeks, and her eyes lowered as a smile rose.

"Shhhhh..."

"I'm serious. You're amazing right now, and you're gonna have no trouble winning over the audience in there."

The smile faded as her eyes timidly found his.

"You think so?"

His hand ran along the wall and scooped hers into his grasp, before hiding them behind his back.

"I know so."

Her eyes, bright and dramatic, registered hopeful feelings as their fingers mingled, out of sight of any spectators.

Another moment of silence later, she squeezed his palm.

"I wish we could dress up like this for a dance... Or something. It just doesn't feel right to be so lovely for one short interview."

Odd's face lit up.

"A dance, you say?"

She tilted her head over.

"A dance. Like a ball or something. A night of being happy."

His eyelids lowered, an eyebrow rising with curiosity.

"Would you dance with me?"

"Right now...?"

"No, But... If it was ever possible. If you and I weren't here."

"Yes."

She breathed, and the smile reappeared.

"I would dance. I haven't danced in years."

Her eyes flitted up and locked with his.

"And I've never danced with anybody handsome like you."

Odd's excitement settled into an endearing smile as they kept up a curious, adorable little stare.

"Alright tributes, in line from 1 to 12. Ladies first."

A voice captured all of their attentions, and within seconds, everybody was moving towards the adjoining hallway.

Both of them pushed upright, and Aelita gripped his other free hand as they touched their foreheads together momentarily.

"You've got this. People won't believe their eyes when you walk onto that stage."

He looked aside, and then smiled.

"...I couldn't believe mine when you walked around the corner."

A blush stained her face again, growing darker as he touched a little kiss to her cheek.

"Good luck." She whispered, before backing away, turning around, and finding her way into the line of tributes towards the front.

Odd, seeing a glimpse of her green dress and red hair ahead, sidled into the line much further behind. All that the twenty four of them could do now, was wait as the clock ticked life away until the interviews began.

* * *

The anticipation in the air was brutally thick as the screen in the hallway came to life, and the legendary young man Caesar Flickerman spun out of his chair, greeting a roaring crowd of several thousand people inside the theater with excitement. At this very moment, the entirety of Panem was tuning in. Hungry to see their tributes again, and hopeful that at least one of them will win over the Capitol audience in the next hour and a half.

A man appeared at the front of the line, and the girl from District 1, Shimmer, was led away, disappearing a few seconds later.

The hallway was stone silent as all eyes were glued to the screen.

Then, the crowd burst to life as she strutted onstage, accepting Caesar's hand and settling daintily into a chair beside him. Like her name, her dress was ridiculously reflective.

_Looks like rippling water... Or some kind of liquid silver. Weird..._

In a flash, her interview was over, and she was met with a roar of cheers as she waved her hand to the audience, and disappeared from view - As did the boy, Glint.

Another roar of excitement, and then he appeared with a grin splitting his face, and shook Caesar's hand vigorously before sitting.

Clearly showing confidence, and having showed earlier prowess during training, it was easy for him to boast of his high training score, earning him an encore of excitement as soon as the three minutes were up.

With a momentary bow, he disappeared offstage, leaving the audience bubbling with anticipation for District 2's tributes. Then, with no shortage of verbal admiration anywhere in the Capitol's streets, Aquila, the brunette from District 2, walked with deadly precision onto the middle of the stage, accepting Caesar's kiss of her hand before taking a seat and looking over the audience.

An unsettling wave of worry then washed over the rest of the tributes as Tatius disappeared around a far corner. The careers were having no trouble lapping up Panem's attention, demonstrated by the screams, whistles and clapping that arose at the start and finish of each interview.

The man that disappeared earlier with Tatius, reappeared and walked straight towards Aelita as the muscular boy appeared next to Caeser with brooding confidence.

Her eyes widened as the man's hand touched her back, and she was led along, down the hallway, around the corner, and out of sight of the 19 others.

Footsteps away from the spotlight, seen by all of Panem.

* * *

Aelita stood in the darkness, a few paces from the stage as the roar of the audience, much louder than the screen produced, filled her ears.

Her heart beat fiercely, and she took in deep breaths, trying to keep her shaking at bay.

_This is a big moment. Huge. Monumental. Only seconds away._

The applause died down, and then, silence.

"From District 3."

A timely pause resulted in a rise of collective whispers in the audience, and Caesar grinned with excitement.

"I think most of you know who she is... She's lovely. Determined. Electrifying. But most of all..."

His eyes swooped across the audience.

"...Mysterious."

His arm rose upward towards the side of the stage, and the air escaped her lungs.

"Aelita Schaeffer!"

Her feet moved into motion, and she stepped forward silently into the light, her eyes growing wide from the incredible uproar as thousands of people appeared before her eyes in a mass of movement and excitement as she walked forth onto the stage.

Her own footsteps were inaudible, silenced beneath the low drum of her heartbeat and the chaos of sound in the air.

Under the moving array of lights, every part of her shined in a dramatic, spectacular manner. Her hair, eyes and skin glowed with life as the copper and gold of her dress danced and rippled with reflections, and the green fabric itself seemed alive with electricity as she walked up beside Caesar. Drawing to a halt, her eyes drifted from the audience to his face, greeting her with a personally impressed smile as he took her hand, and both of them sat down in the chairs behind.

He looked over the audience as it slowly faded into silence, and then, all eyes fell upon her.

"I must say, Aelita... You are absolutely dazzling."

A blush tinted her cheeks.

"Thank you."

Sensing no further words from her after a pause, he touched his hands together with a breath.

"Tell me, Miss Schaeffer... What do you think about the Capitol, with your week's stay so far?"

She blinked.

"Its... Spectacular. Nothing like home. Everything's so fancy and refined here."

He grinned.

"We wouldn't have it any other way."

She smiled weakly, and he touched his hand to his chin.

"So, your training score... How did it feel to earn a ten?"

Her eyes lowered momentarily.

"Well, I... Honestly didn't think I would score that high."

"And yet you did. Somebody was clearly impressed with your abilities."

"I guess so." She exhaled. "I'm still surprised that I beat a few of the careers though. I guess I thought they would _at least_ do better than a girl from District 3."

Caesar's eyebrow rose at the edge in her voice, and a low murmur of speculation filled the air, causing her to eye the audience with a subtle smile.

_Powerful, permanent words._

"Very surprising indeed." He nodded, looking at the audience with her, before recapturing her attention.

"Now, about the reaping... You sure brought about a bit of commotion from your people back home when your name was called. Why was that?"

She breathed calmly. Everyone back home is listening closely right now.

"My father... Was pretty well known in three. And I liked going with him to his job, so I met a lot of people in my district."

He leaned his head closer, and she continued.

"I guess I was admired by many... But things changed. I didn't think anyone cared or remembered me anymore."

"What happened?"

Aelita slowly shook her head.

"Everything turned upside down after the accident."

Caeser sat back in his chair.

"Some industrial explosion spread caustic acid for about a mile radius, according to the report."

The theater was dead silent as a pained breath left her lungs.

"That same day, at twelve years old... I was declared an orphan, in the hall of justice."

A cloud of pity and upset emotion filled the air as Caesar sighed, lost for words for a moment. He then leaned forward again, eying her with intent.

"I'll tell you what Aelita... I bet if your mom and dad could see you, as lovely and brave as you are now, I think they'd be very proud of you."

She nodded, and a smile forced its way through her lips as he turned to the crowd.

"...Wouldn't you be proud of her?"

The audience exploded into a cheer of elation, causing Caesar to grin in a chuckle as she blushed.

With time running short, he released her hand, and pointed at her.

"Now, if you go out there and win this year, I think District 3 will be just as proud of you too."

She sighed with uncertainty.

"I sure hope so."

Caesar grinned, and then lifted her up to her feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Aelita Schaeffer, of District 3!"

Another round of incredible applause filled her ears, and she smiled at the thousands of people before her, hoping their earlier sympathy would still be present when the Games began.

The cheering continued as she turned and walked towards the opposite end of the stage, bringing the brilliance of her dress back to life for a few fleeting moments until she disappeared from sight.

* * *

Stepping out of another hallway, Aelita was pounced upon by her stylists in a trio of hugs, and was then scooped into another by Markell's arm, before being pulled into a fifth by her district representative.

Taking a well deserved deep breath, she looked at all five faces.

"I couldn't help getting emotional... How did I do?"

"Oh don't worry, you did well."

"You were marvelous, dear."

"Absolutely fantastic work."

Markell gripped and shook her shoulder, and she closed her eyes as her heart settled down.

"I think you've given everyone a real run for their money... I'll catch up with you tomorrow morning. We'll talk then."

One of her stylists took her arm, and she was led away down another hall, back up another flight of stairs, and then into the foyer of the theater, where just outside the door, another car was waiting under the dark of night.

* * *

Within minutes, they were driven back to the training center, and another minute later, the elevator whisked the four of them back up to floor 3. With some reluctance, she stepped inside her room - Back in the same comfortable prison she had spent the past week in.

Kicking off her shoes and appearing before the crystal mirror, the girl looking back at her marveled the dress in silence.

_For a few seconds, at least._

Hearing footsteps, she turned her head and watched as two of the three stylists appeared behind her. Another moment of eying herself, and she sighed, facing them.

"If I survive... Can you send this dress home with me?"

Startled by her query, one of them nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure that can be arranged, but..."

Aelita touched her hand.

"Then arrange it."

Her firm expression softened right afterward, seeing a second nod.

"I just haven't worn anything so wonderful and elegant in such a long time... I don't want it to be thrown away if I can wear it again as a victor."

Much to Aelita's surprise, the same stylist burst into tears, instantly ruining the green coloring around her eyes.

"Then what do we do if you don't survive?" The other spoke.

She pulled the woman into a hug, looking at the male.

"That's up to you."

He sighed, and then stepped into the bathroom as the third stylist appeared beside Aelita, but just like the others, his earlier excitement had faded away. Aelita pointedly eyed him, and he nodded.

"I heard your request... But we're still changing your attire in the meantime."

Releasing the sobbing stylist, she backed into the bathroom, and a few moments later, another transformation began, even though all four of them watched sadly as her powerful, sexy attire was slowly undone. Even the makeup, was washed away as she reverted to her plain self.

In the end, dressed in the same green robe, four pairs of eyes looked at the girl in the mirror as she sadly looked back. What didn't disappear though, was never altered in the first place - Her hair, and her brilliant green eyes, which were now impossible to miss.

She looked at each stylist individually, and each one offered a weak smile before they finally broke down into another bout of hugs.

"You know... When I first met all of you... You were all so weird. But now that I know you've worked so hard to help me and make me so beautiful..."

She paused, fighting her own sadness inside her throat.

"...You're all wonderful people on the inside. Don't ever forget that."

Unable to withstand the emotion, the woman simply left the room weeping, and the other two, genuinely touched, shook her hand before leaving without a further word.

Choked by guilt, she walked quietly over towards the window, but the same view of the dark skyline stopped her. Looking at the massive pane of glass, she blinked, and then rushed over to the nightstand, picked up the remote, and the screen on the window came to life as she tapped the curved black surface.

The boy from District 6, sitting next to Caesar, calmly answered one last question, and then stood up as the audience clapped, and shook hands before vanishing. Then, the girl from 7 appeared amongst a warm welcome from the audience, and sat in the chair with ease.

_Yeah yeah, girl from 7. Hurry up please._

Aelita exhaled, trying to force the emotion back down her throat. Half an hour ago, she was in the same exact spot, and a few minutes from now, Odd was due to be in the spotlight.

She hopped up onto the bed, settling comfortably and crossing her legs as she watched the screen with anticipation. Just like before, all she could do was wait.

* * *

_This is it._

Odd stood in the dark, peering just around the wall and watching as Caesar, orange hair and all, paced the stage for a moment.

"Also from District 8... A peculiar young lad, with a peculiar name. Please welcome - Odd Della Robbia!"

He blinked, but kicked into gear, walking forward onto the stage, and grinning from the rousing applause echoing from the depths of the theater's seats, stretching up to the ceiling in a massive uphill curve.

_Talk about a big building._

He stepped up to Caesar and shook his outstretched hand, before slumping down into the chair. He then looked at the host with a subtle nod as the commotion drew to a close.

"So, Odd. Tell us about your stay here in the Capitol... Anything in particular stand out to you?"

His chin rose into the air.

"Well, there's not a factory in sight... But the food."

Caesar's eyebrow rose.

"The food here is amazing... Everything's so rich and full of flavor."

"Have you tried the Lamb stew?"

"I have." Odd smiled. "...If there's anything you should know about me, Caesar, I love to eat."

His hand settled on Odd's shoulder.

"That makes two of us."

After a momentary rise of laughter, Caesar touched his hand to his chin as he eyed the blonde.

"Now, your name... I don't think I've ever met anyone with a name like yours. Is there a story behind it?"

"Not really. My dad suggested it, but... Its just part of what makes me unique, I suppose."

"Indeed. I've heard rumors about your strength."

"...You mean when I threw a man over myself?"

Caesar blinked, but nodded.

"Yes, that... Quite an impressive feat with your small stature."

A grin split Odd's face, and the host switched gears.

"Now, your score... Ten. You're right up there with the top dogs this year."

"Yeah... I don't know how I did so well, but there's no use questioning it now."

A pensive look appeared on Caesars face.

"You don't like being in the upper echelon?"

"I almost get the feeling I got a ten on purpose."

Whispers clouded the air, and the host realized the moment was perfect for a segue as the blonde's eyes wandered.

"Tell me about this... Alliance I've been hearing about."

Odd swallowed. _Time to be choosy with words._

"Well... As soon as training began, I saw how pretty this girl was, and then witnessed her skills, and thought, maybe if she and I teamed up, one of us could survive the games and emerge as a victor. So I approached her, told her my idea, and after a day or so, she accepted it and became my ally, and we've been a team ever since."

Caesar nodded. There was a lot more to his story from what he had heard, but he didn't press the issue.

"Do you think you can trust her?"

The blonde nodded.

"I do... But I just hope she'll trust me."

More whispers and sympathetic voices arose.

"A tentative alliance... Let's hope one of you ends up winning after all."

"I guess we'll find out."

Both males shook hands, and stood to their feet.

"Odd Della Robbia. A unique lad, from District 8!"

A thunderous mix of cheering and clapping brought about one more smile on the blonde's face, and he waved to the crowd as he walked to the edge of the stage, vanishing seconds later.

* * *

Aelita shut the screen off, and a black backdrop replaced the theater as the lights in her room dimmed.

_Can I trust Odd?_

_Of course I can. If he's gone through so much trouble to keep up the alliance during training... And all the hugs... And kissing my cheek..._

The worry was kicked out of her mind. His loyalty was just proven to her in his own interview anyway, as he kept their emotional moments secret from all of Panem under incredible pressure.

After a few quiet moments, her eyes fell upon a nearby clock, and a sickening realization burst through the silence in her head.

_The Games begin tomorrow._

She flopped down onto the bed, feeling strangely calm as she stretched her arms. As if it this day hadn't come soon enough.

She rolled over, frowning when she felt something small underneath the covers. Her arm reached underneath, and fished out a small steel vial of liquid, with a note attached.

_'You earned it.'_

She unscrewed the lid, and a strong odor met her nose.

_Aha. Alcohol._

She tilted it up, and the liquid trickled into her mouth before going down in one gulp.

Her throat burned, but her tongue was confused. It was alcohol..._ But it was also very sweet._

Setting the vial aside, she drug the covers back and tucked her legs underneath, sidling in before pulling the sheets back over herself as she grew steadily tired.

And then, she blinked.

"Sleep syrup."

_How clever... Thanks, Mark._

Her eyes drooped shut, and within minutes, she was drifting away in otherwise unobtainable sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Day eight.**

Aelita opened her eyes. And then closed them, trying desperately to force herself back to sleep.

Morning had come at last, after a dreamless, motionless rest, and it was time to face destiny. _Or a demise._

She clawed her way out of the bed, wandering into the bathroom in a haze before disrobing and pressing a few random buttons as she stepped into the shower.

A strange mix of mildly warm water, vanilla scented shampoo, and some unknown orange foam cascaded onto her, and she lathered all of it into her hair vigorously before shutting everything off, and changing to a warmer, thicker stream of water, rinsing it all away.

Just like before, she eventually found herself sitting on the floor, lost in thought under the drenching cascade of comfortably warm water.

_In a few short hours, the fifty-seventh Hunger Games begin. In a few short hours, I could be dead. Odd could be dead. A lot of people will be dead. A lot of tears will be shed in the districts. A lot of pain and anger will rise from the slaughter. And then, the process will repeat all over again. One year, and twenty four more tributes later._

Aelita shook in a shiver. She knew what was coming, but didn't have a clue as to how the day would progress.

As always, there was only one way to find out.

* * *

Wrapped up in her robe, she sat on the edge of the bed, when a knock at her door came.

"Yes?"

It opened, and Mark peeked inside.

"Oh."

He walked in, and Aelita watched him as he sat down beside her.

"Morning."

She took in a breath, offering a small smile.

"I found your gift last night."

"Did you like that?"

"Didn't expect the sleep syrup."

He laughed.

"That was in case the shot itself didn't knock you out... That stuff was as strong as it gets."

Her eyes wandered to the floor.

"At least I got to sleep."

"And that's a good thing, my dear. We've got two hours until you're on your way in a hovercraft."

Her stomach shriveled at the thought.

"Make sure you fill your belly before we go. Who knows what's out there in the arena."

Having just lost her appetite, she grimaced.

"...In any case, last night was a hell of a show. You caused a lot of noise in the streets when you appeared on screen. Reruns and all."

She turned her head in disbelief, and he grinned.

"I'm not joking, girl. You've got fans out there, so don't be afraid to show some appreciation."

She blinked, her eyes falling to her feet on the carpet.

_Fans. Supporters. Sponsors. Maybe even some people back home in District 3._

All at once, the thought wrapped together. A lot of people want to see her win. Even if it seemed so far-fetched. Her shoulder was shaken, and she snapped back to reality, suddenly staring into Mark's eyes as an old, hidden thought finally surfaced.

"Mark... Are you from District 3?"

A tense pause lingered between them.

"No."

His hand retracted from her shoulder.

"I am not from District 3. I'm not a victor either."

Her stare softened in confusion.

"...Then how are you my mentor if you're not even from my home?"

He sighed.

"When your previous mentor died a couple days ago, somebody had to replace her, and there weren't any suitable victors left in District 3. So a few strings were pulled, and I ended up working with you."

Her heart sank. _District 3 is almost never victorious._

"It was easy to get this position because nobody wanted it."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and he held up his finger.

"BUT, that's where the problem lies. Nobody wanted to work with District 3, because nobody wanted to deal with you. People didn't see your potential like I did. People also didn't expect your friend, and your alliance with him."

Her eyes cautiously returned to his face as his hand carefully sat upon her shoulder again.

"Aelita, I live and work here in the Capitol. But that doesn't mean I don't have the audacity to think differently."

He paused, and slowly shook her shoulder.

"I became your mentor so I could help you win... District 3 deserves a long-overdue victory, and I believe you are just the sort of person that can achieve it for them."

A sigh left her lungs.

"If you say so."

* * *

**Breakfast, Floor three.**

_Ugh._

For the first time, the rich, excessive food was not going down well that morning, finally causing Aelita to resign to a simple slice of toast with some kind of jam spread over it.

_To think the same people that serve all this food, are about to gleefully watch twenty four kids kill each other..._

_How does anyone keep an appetite during the Games?_

_Maybe some people like having bloody battles as their conversational subject during lunch..._

Eventually, the swirling medley of dark, sinister thoughts in her mind invaded her stomach, and she set the half-eaten slice of bread onto the already half-eaten platter of breakfast.

_A week ago, I've been borderline starving. Now look at me... This stuff is making me sick._

Her eyes flicked from person to person at the table, and thankfully nobody noticed. Especially not Lucent.

Her head turned, and she stared out of the window in the distance.

_Ahh, my district partner Lucent. Such a lovely experience, to dine and coexist with you, even though you might be dead in a couple of hours._

Her eyebrows furrowed as she reversed the roles.

_Yeah. Dining with that girl that bends the rules. Who has some boy that's on her side. Both of whom scored 10s._

Her eyes rolled. _Moron here might be a possible threat, but there's bigger, scarier people to worry about._

* * *

Stepping back into her bedroom, an assortment of clothes lay arranged onto her bed, instantly drawing her closer.

Instead of elegant colors and material though, it was easy to tell this was all factory-made. A dull mustard yellow shirt, dark grey cargo pants, a belt, black socks and boots.

_Nothing electrifying this time around... Nothing complex to change into either._

She slowly walked up to the mirror, eying herself from head to toe, secretly wishing she had clothing like this back home. Rugged and deceptively comfortable.

_Clothing you can survive the Games in._

"Aelita."

She flinched when Mark appeared in the doorway.

"Are you ready?"

Her expression hardened from the query.

_No. I'll never be ready for this..._

"Yes."

"Alright. Come with me."

Looking back at the bed, and then the window, a worried sigh seeped out of her lungs.

_One whole week already gone, and now I'm walking out of here for the last time._

_This is it then. The beginning of my end._

* * *

Odd's heart thumped in his chest as he walked past the large dining table of the apartment.

_Okay me._

_This is where everything you've learned is put to the test._

He watched his mentor's hand rise and push a button next to the elevator door.

_At least I have a plan. I just have to put it in motion._

Stepping inside the doors when they opened, he waited until they clicked shut again, and the elevator began to rise.

_Of course, I have to survive, before I can do anything._

_And that's the hard part..._

* * *

_Dread._

Pure dread coursed through her veins as she walked beside Markell to the door of another elevator.

With the push of two buttons, they were inside, and it began to move upwards.

"Aelita."

Her eyes rose up to him, and he sighed unhappily.

"When you get in there, whatever you do, don't leave that pedestal until the countdown ends. There's explosives around each one that deactivate as soon as the timer reaches zero."

"...Alright." She nodded, uneasily.

"You'll see the cornucopia right away, and everything good will be right at the mouth. There's packs and things around the outside, but by a certain distance away, they're just about useless."

"What should I do then?"

"Run. If you think you're quick enough, go for a weapon. If you falter, get a backpack and get away from the cornucopia as fast as you can."

She blew a breath out between her lips.

"I know you've seen what happens if you stick around. It turns into a bloodbath every time. Don't get caught up in it."

She nodded, and the elevator ground to a halt, opening its doors a second later. Sunlight, and then a huge, floating metal object in the distance met their eyes - A hovercraft, growling with energy, waited patiently as it sat suspended over a flat expanse of concrete before them.

The two of them stepped out of the doorway, and she eyed her mentor as he faced her.

"Aelita, I don't know what the arena is going to be like, but I doubt its going to be anything like District 3. Stay alert, and don't do anything too risky."

Uneasy smiles were traded, and then they squeezed together in a hug.

"Try to find your friend as soon as you can... And be careful."

They separated, and he shook her shoulder, before she turned and began walking towards the awaiting hovercraft.

As soon as she climbed up inside, she found a seat, and watched patiently as the rest of the twelve seats were filled up by other tributes. Dressed in obvious color coded attire, the twelve teenagers traded looks as they sat, knowing that a short length of time remained before them and a dozen more were going to spill each others blood.

Aelita squirmed as the hovercraft took off into the air, feeling her insides sink as it gained elevation and tilted upward. The sensation of flight was new and uncomfortable, but was nothing compared to the claustrophobia of sitting amongst other children that either hate or fear you.

* * *

An unknown passage of time and distance later, the machine began to descend, and Aelita's stomach rose into her throat.

_The train was a lot better than this experience..._

The door in the side opened, and the ladder extended, but then a woman walked around with a sizable needle, and began to inject something into each tribute's forearm.

A small boy, maybe 13, asked what the she had just done, and she simply replied, "Your tracker."

Aelita winced, and then stared at the little electronic tablet as it blinked momentarily with a small white light, before going dark.

_Great. Now the gamemakers will know exactly where I am, at every second during the Games..._

She rolled her eyes, but then watched as the restraints were undone one by one, and each tribute proceeded out of the hovercraft several minutes apart from each other.

After a little while, Aelita was freed, and quickly exited down the ladder, only to discover she was underground on a large circular landing pad, with one large hallway leading away from it. She began to walk towards the hallway, and as soon as she entered the corridor, two peacekeepers joined her, walking alongside and leading her into a separate hallway, which led to several more that wound left and right.

Lights above buzzed noisily, keeping the stark interior of the concrete pathways dimly lit as a trio of footsteps echoed down them. Then, after one last turn, a door. One peacekeeper opened it, and Aelita stepped inside, wincing as it slammed shut behind.

She turned, and suddenly found one of her stylists was waiting patiently at the desk inside.

"Aelita."

She walked forward as he stood to his feet, and stepped beside the desk as he grabbed a black nylon jacket off of its hanger, turning to her.

"You might need this."

He hung it over her shoulders, and she stuck her arms through the sleeves, pulling it on and zipping up the front. She turned and faced the stylist, pausing as he adjusted the jacket and sighed sadly, before grasping one of her hands with both of his.

"We may have only known you for a week... But we're so proud that we were blessed with such a wonderful, lovely tribute like you."

She closed her eyes, and surrounded the young man in a hug.

"We're going to miss you... It's been an honor to make you look your finest for the Capitol."

**"Thirty. Seconds."**

Her eyes flicked open from the electronic voice, and she looked over at the glass tube in the corner of the room.

The stylist separated himself from her, and watched as she began to visibly shake as she looked at the clock mounted on the wall.

**"Twenty. Seconds."**

_Oh god..._

"You'd better get in there."

Silent fear gripped her as she nodded, and her feet began to reluctantly move, taking step after step until her boots clunked onto the metal plate inside the glass tube.

**"Ten. Seconds."**

Her heart pounded, clearly audible inside her head. _Maybe even outside of my head too._

She turned around, and the stylist offered a small, hopeful smile as he watched her.

"Be careful!"

_Yeah. Sure. I'll be careful if I can even be alive!_

A strange sliding noise, and then, the glass closed shut in front of her, blocking out all outside noise.

Instinctively, she reached forward and touched the glass, but her eyes grew wide as the plate beneath her began to rise upward, pushing her up slowly until the room disappeared.

She looked down at her feet, eying the steel plate she stood on, pushing her up through the earth.

Bright light began to fill the tube from above, and for a moment, she closed her eyes. Then, the plate below clicked to a stop, and a breath silently parted her lips as they opened again.

* * *

**End of Part 2...**


End file.
